


in this reverie

by gigglyjaehyun



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Soulmates, That's all I got, wow i literally have no idea what to tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigglyjaehyun/pseuds/gigglyjaehyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dan doesn't know why he keeps running into phil but he wants to blame it on the universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in this reverie

**Author's Note:**

> so it turns out dan and phil are my new guilty pleasure !! nic e  
> anyway i'm just hella glad that i have time to write since school is out. i hope u like it :---)
> 
> also uhm , shameless plug the title is from [reverie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3wLp2JJsXqc) by grizzly. and basically they're this rad band from where i live and u should deffo check them out if you're into alternative/punk/rock

If there’s anything Dan hates, it’s when there’s someone else in the same aisle as him. It gives him the nagging feeling that his privacy’s being invaded. Which is ridiculous, frankly, because the grocery store is a public place – of course there are going to be other people. What else should he expect?

His eyes keep flickering over to the other person in the cereal aisle who is glaring rather intently at the boxes on the shelves. The other person looks seriously focused on choosing which cereal he wants, judging by the way that he keeps picking up boxes, evaluating them, and putting them back. It’s rather funny, in Dan’s opinion.

Dan looks back at the cereal.

Then it happens.

Spotting the only remaining box of Frosted Mini-Wheats, Dan walks forward and reaches a hand for it – at the same exact time as the other person.

“Sorry sorry sorry,” the other person blurts out, retracting his hand immediately. Dan soundlessly looks at him. “Uh.” The other person quickly snatches the box while Dan is a statue.

“Oh, I was going to get that,” Dan states, as if it wasn’t obvious.

The other person looks down at the box of Frosted Mini-Wheats and then back at Dan. “This is the last box.”

Dan clears his throat. “Yes, I can see that.”

There’s a slight pink tint growing on the other person’s cheeks, and he shrugs uncertainly. “There’s plenty of other cereal, I suppose.” He moves to place the box in his basket and is briskly interrupted by Dan pulling it out of his grip.

“Surely there must be a more dignified way we can settle this,” Dan suggests.

The other person’s mouth has fallen into an ‘O’ shape. “Did you – did you just _take_ that out of my hands?” he asks bewilderedly, pointing at the box that Dan is now guiltily holding.

Dan is silent for a moment and then, mentally slapping himself, dumps the box into the other person’s basket. “Sorry, shit, that was bloody rude of me, wasn’t it?” Dan’s face is heating up and the other person still looks faintly surprised. “I don’t know why I did that. Anyways. I’m going to go look at frozen food now. I really shouldn’t linger.” Although he doesn’t intend for it to sound bitter, Dan tacks on: “Enjoy your Frosted Mini-Wheats,” and anxiously strolls away before the situation has a chance to get any worse.

\---

Dan pockets his phone after reading the message from Louise and looks back up at the Panda Express menu. He’s not a huge fan of food courts in shopping malls because they’re always excessively occupied and noisy, but he can’t help it if his stomach’s started rumbling. He supposes there’s a lesson to learn from this: never skip breakfast, the most important meal of the day.

Even more troubling, Louise said she wouldn’t be here for at least another half hour thanks to traffic, meaning Dan’s going to have to sit at a table alone and watch little children intrusively stare at him as he works on his orange chicken. Fantastic.

When Dan briefly peers behind his shoulder, evaluating the food court to see if there are any empty tables left, he also catches a glimpse of the person standing in line behind him, and he really, really hopes his mind is playing tricks on him. To avoid an awkward situation, Dan faces forward almost immediately, hoping the person behind him didn’t recognize him.

Okay, surely Dan’s imagination is just messing with him. Maybe it’s not the same person he saw two days ago. It’s probably just someone who looks like him. Why does Dan even remember what he looks like anyway?

Nonchalantly, Dan twists his head back again, directing his gaze to a couple eating pizza at one of the tables. Using his peripheral vision, he tries to make out some of the features of the person standing behind him. Black hair. Fringe going to the right.

“Hey!”

Dan’s heart-rate picks up and he pretends to be confused.

“You’re the guy I saw at the store the other day, right?” the person behind him asks.

Because Dan is a professional at socializing, he stares at the other person for a few seconds without saying anything.

“Uh – yeah,” Dan finally manages, trying his best to mask the uncomfortableness in his voice. “How are you – um – enjoying your Frosted Mini-Wheats?”

Look forward to Dan’s new book – “Accidentally Being an Asshole” – coming to a book store near you.

Much to Dan’s relief, the other person laughs. “I actually got a really strange piece of cereal in there that had no wheat in it and was just completely frost. Guess I should keep you updated.”

_What the fuck_. Dan furrows his eyebrows, and then realizes that’s kind of rude, so he unfurrows them. “That’s… interesting.”

The other person nods and then holds his hand out. “I’m Phil.”

He doesn’t seem to hate Dan, so that must be a good sign, right?

Shaking Phil’s hand, Dan introduces himself. “Listen, sorry about the other day in the store,” Dan amends, figuring this is the best chance he’ll get to offer an apology. “I was kind of a dick and don’t really know what got over me. I’m not usually like that, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Phil says with a smile. “No hard feelings.”

“Sir?” a lady asks. Dan turns around and the woman at the counter is looking at him, waiting for his order with a menacing hawk-like stare on her face. She can’t really be blamed; the lunch rush must be stressful, not to mention the fact that it’s the weekend on top of that.

Dan means to say something to Phil before ordering – a goodbye or maybe a “nice talking to you” – but he doesn’t.

\---

“Are you sure you don’t want to see it in 3D?” PJ asks for the millionth time while they’re queueing in line for tickets. “Everything is so much better in 3D.”

Dan looks up from his (mostly empty) wallet with a look of disgust plastered on his face. “3D costs an extra seven pounds!” he says with heavy annoyance. There’s no way he can disagree with the fact that Jurassic World would undoubtedly be better in 3D, but is it really worth that much money? After all, Dan’s got a family to feed – a family of one – and college textbooks he should probably be saving his money for.

PJ puts on his best pouty puppy-dog face. “ _Please_.”

Dan rolls his eyes as if the pressure is unbearable. “Does this mean we can’t get popcorn?”

PJ simply grins. “You’ll be fine without popcorn. Popcorn’s just an expensive distraction.”

The couple in front of them steps away from the ticket counter and Dan and PJ walk up to purchase their tickets. While waiting for their receipt to be printed, Dan gives PJ a look and declares, “This better be worth it.”

Dan surveys the lines behind them and the amount of people waiting. There’s a high chance that a majority of these people have come to watch the same movie as them, and Dan hates when the theater is crowded. He hates sitting next to strangers and he especially hates when he can’t hear the funny lines because the audience is too loud.

Fortunately, he figures their room might be emptier since a lot of consumers refuse to pay the extra money for 3D. Maybe PJ’s been really clever about this. Dan will have to thank him later.

There’s a blur of movement. Someone in another line is waving at Dan.

Dan looks around. Surely he must be waving at someone else, but no one standing next to him is looking at that person. Dan looks back at the person – who’s still waving – and he understands. Awkwardly waves back.

PJ frowns at Dan and takes the receipt, along with their tickets, from the man on the other side of the glass. He says thank you before gesturing for Dan to walk off to the side.

“Who were you waving at?” PJ inquires as they walk over to the entrance of the theater.

“Uh,” Dan hesitates, feels himself blush a bit, and hopes the sky is dark enough that PJ won’t notice. Why is he blushing? Phil doesn’t need to be a secret. It’s not like they’re even friends. “It’s just someone I know.”

Okay, that’s sort of a lie. Dan doesn’t _know_ Phil. He knows that Phil likes Frosted Mini-Wheats and Panda Express. He knows _about_ Phil.

“Oh, so like a friend?” PJ asks, and Dan nods in spite of it not being true. “Didn’t know you had any of those,” PJ says with pretend awe, laughing when Dan shoots a glare at him.  

Jurassic World is a great movie. There are a lot of dinosaurs.

He also doesn’t see Phil again for the rest of the night.

\---

Dan has been miserably standing in the rain for a good ten minutes and he’s pretty sure that he’ll make it back to his apartment faster if he just decides to walk. He should’ve brought an umbrella, or at least put on a raincoat before leaving this morning. Maybe meteorologists aren’t always wrong.

Eight cabs have already passed – he counted – and not a single one has been vacant. He’s losing hope with each ticking second, but he really has no other options.

When he catches sight of a bright, yellow cab a block away, he figures this is his chance. This cab absolutely has to be empty because if it isn’t then Dan’s going to have to find a parked car he can break into (he may be overthinking things).

The cab parks a quarter of a block away from where Dan’s standing and he’s so, so grateful until some absolute fucking slag runs past him and hops in the backseat before he even gets a chance to process what’s happening. Dan tries to stop the cab before it speeds off down the road, but the driver doesn’t stop and Dan relentlessly lets out a string of curse words before he can stop himself. The universe really doesn’t like him today.

“Dan?”

Dan turns around quickly, probably looking vaguely insane with the way that he’s soaking wet and shouting obscenities in the rain.

Phil’s standing there underneath an umbrella, looking somewhat surprised – either because he just caught Dan cursing at what appears to be nobody or because this is literally the fourth time they’ve bumped into each other in less than a week. Dan decides that when/if he gets home tonight he’s going to have to Google the population of London, because there’s no reasonable way they could run into each other this many times.

Instead of an introductory “hi” or a “nice to see you,” Dan blurts out, “This is ridiculous.”

But Phil just nods and walks over, holding the umbrella over the two of them.

“How is this possible?” Dan asks. “Also, thanks for the umbrella. I’m kind of already completely drenched in water but I guess every little bit helps.”

“You reckon we’re soulmates?” Phil suggests. “I saw you at the theater the other day. Not sure if you saw me, though. You looked pretty confused. Wait.” Phil pauses. “Maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe it was just someone who _looked_ like you. I waved at them! Oh no –”

Dan cuts him off with a laugh. “I think I saw you, too,” he says. “Anyway, this is still ridiculous.” Dan freezes and hesitates to ask, “Are you stalking me?”

Looking absolutely scandalized by the suggestion, Phil shakes his head and promises he isn’t. Dan raises a skeptical eyebrow and Phil says, “I don’t even think I’m clever enough to do that.”

“This just got really sad.”

Phil coughs nervously. “Um, is there a reason why you transformed into the Hulk a few seconds ago?”

Dan restrains from burying his face in his hands. “It’s a long story.” Phil doesn’t say anything, so Dan sighs and dreadfully continues. “My apartment is twenty minutes away by walking and I clearly wasn’t prepared for the rain –” Dan gestures to the water dripping off of him, “– so I thought, ‘Oh, it’s fine! I can just get a cab.’ Except, slight problem. There are _literally_ no cabs that haven’t already been claimed thanks to the weather, so I’ve been standing here for ten minutes with no protection from the rain, hence the reason I look like I have just jumped into a swimming pool.” Dan finishes with a sarcastic smile.

“Well, that sounds fun,” Phil says. “I could – um – I could walk you back to your apartment?” he suggests hesitantly. “Just so you could use my umbrella, I mean.”

Dan can’t help but smile – a real, genuine smile – at the sound of that. It’s a really nice offer and as much as he would like to say yes, there’s one huge factor restraining him. He doesn’t really know Phil; they’re ninety-nine percent strangers, one percent acquaintances, and Dan definitely doesn’t want to come off as needy.

“That’s really kind of you,” Dan starts. “But I’m sure you have places to be and I really don’t want to waste your time.”

“Are you sure?” Phil asks. Dan’s surprised at how genuine Phil sounds. He’s either a fantastic liar or seriously cares about Dan’s wellbeing, which. Dan’s heart swells a bit at the thought.

“I’m sure,” Dan replies. But he isn’t sure. “Thank you, though.”

“Alright.” Phil begins to walk away. “Best of luck getting a cab! Suppose I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Dan laughs. “You probably will.”

Phil smiles and then walks off.

Dan turns back to the road. The rain apparently still refuses to let up and there are no cabs in sight. His wet clothing is starting to become mildly uncomfortable and he probably looks miserable. He waits exactly seven whole seconds before caving in and heading down the pavement to catch up to Phil.

“I lied,” Dan announces.

Phil spins around and lights up when he sees Dan coming over. “You’re back!”

“I’m back,” Dan affirms, shrugging his way under the umbrella and apologizing after accidentally bumping his shoulder against Phil’s. “I decided I’m going to accept your offer.”

Dan discovers that Phil is really, really nice. Like, he was kind of already leaning towards that conclusion, but Phil is nicer than nice. He’s the king of nice. Nice is probably his middle name. What would normally be a painfully-boring twenty minute walk turns into an enjoyable stroll just because of Phil’s presence, and Dan would like to know the science behind this.

They get into a conversation about dinosaurs that somehow spirals into a chat about serious things like education. Phil graduated uni a few years ago in Manchester and lived with a friend for a while until aforementioned friend passed away. That’s when he moved into London to find a place with lower rent; he’s been living alone for the past year and mentioned something about vlogging.

In return, Dan gives Phil the best rundown of his own life that he can provide. He’s a uni student struggling to complete his last year, living by himself in the cheapest apartment in London that he could find. Education has a hefty bill and finding a place to live that wouldn’t completely empty his pockets was challenging.

When they get to Dan’s apartment, he feels a bit embarrassed. The building he lives in is old and sometimes concerning in the sense that he isn’t always sure if he can trust it to not collapse on him. There’s no backup generator for when the electricity goes out – which has proven to be inconvenient several times – and it looks poorly maintained from the outside; unkempt vines and various other wild plants snaking up the sides of it.

Dan also knows that the person living above him has two things: drugs and constant sex.

So maybe it’s not the friendliest place to be living in. But the rent is affordable and the landlord always compliments Dan for keeping his place well-maintained, so he doesn’t plan on moving. He’s learned to deal with the troublesome qualities.

“Is this where you live?” Phil asks, evaluating the place with what appears to be great alarm.

“I like to splurge my money on large mansions, as you can tell by the way that the building I live in appears to be on the brink of annihilation.” Dan stops in front of the door with the faded number 3 on it and turns to Phil. “Do you want to come in for a drink or something?” he asks. “My way of saying thanks,” he quickly clarifies, in case he comes off as intimidating.

Fortunately Phil just laughs (Dan may have fallen a tiny, tiny bit in love with Phil’s laugh by this point) and says, “Why not?”

Dan pulls his damp house keys out of the back pocket of his jeans and pushes the door open. He’s immediately taken aback by the gust of cold air he’s greeted with. Looks like his sometimes-broken heater decided to be broken today.

“Sorry that my flat kind of sucks,” Dan says with an uncomfortable laugh, kicking his shoes off by the door and watching Phil do the same. Dan likes to think that his apartment is cozy instead of tiny; he likes the way that the kitchen flows into the living room, the only divider being a small glass table.

He hopes Phil doesn’t notice the heaping mountain of homework and textbooks on the dining table, but it’s really quite obvious. “I’m not a broke college student,” Dan explain as he catches Phil’s eyes wandering over to the schoolwork. “I’m an _almost_ -broke college student.”

Phil laughs and Dan wants to capture the sound in a jar and save it for a bad day.

“You okay with hot chocolate?” Dan asks, wandering over to the kitchen, his damp feet making squeaking sounds when they come into contact with the wooden floor. He’s suddenly aware of the fact that his hair is a mess thanks to the rain, and he hasn’t really done anything to fix it. His shirt has mostly dried up but his jeans are still uncomfortably wet, so he decides he’s going to make the hot chocolate first and change his clothes second.

Phil calls an affirmative from the other room and Dan opens up one of the cupboards to pull out two empty mugs. He’s searching the cupboards for the cocoa powder when he hears light footsteps behind him. He turns around to see Phil walking over. “You want any help with that?” Phil asks.

“As long as you don’t break anything,” Dan says, laughing when Phil glares at him. “If you want to get started, I’m going to change my clothes,” Dan suggests. “Because right now I feel like a human mop.”

Phil wrinkles his nose and gives a quizzical look at the mugs and the packet of cocoa powder next to them.

“It’ll literally take me ten seconds to change,” Dan insists, veering out of the room.

Dan tries his best to change into warm clothes as fast possible, but still catches the faint sound of ceramic having a disagreement with the kitchen floor, followed by Phil hesitantly calling out Dan’s name.

He also takes the opportunity to look up the population of London on his phone, like he planned on doing earlier. The number turns out to be even more astounding than he was expecting.

When Dan returns to the kitchen a few minutes later, Phil has two steaming mugs of hot chocolate prepared on the counter.

“I didn’t break anything!” he declares proudly, holding out one of the mugs for Dan. “Well, not really.”

“What do you mean ‘not really’?” Dan asks, taking the warm drink from Phil.

“Um,” is all Phil says before he focuses on taking a sip. “It doesn’t taste too bad, either,” he says with a smile. “Would taste better with marshmallows but I thought it would be rude of me to start exploring your kitchen.”

Dan opens the cupboard above the stove and sifts through the various packaged food to find the bag of marshmallows. Ideally, mini marshmallows would be a better option than the regular ones Dan has, but it’s all he’s got.

“I have these?” he suggests, lifting up the bag for Phil to see.

Phil walks over curiously. “I feel like those would be more of an inconvenience,” he says.

Dan pouts a bit and sets his mug down so he can open the bag. He takes one giant marshmallow out of the bag and drops it into his mug, watching it sink momentarily and then float back to the surface. “Better than nothing,” he insists. Phil drops one into his drink as well and follows Dan over to the table between the kitchen and the living room.

They sit at the table with a comfortable silence between them as they finish their hot chocolate. The warm drink is a great refresher after their walk.

“I love how the rain lets up as soon as I get home,” Dan comments after a moment has passed, looking outside one of the kitchen windows. The clouds have stopped pouring buckets of water over London but leftover raindrops are still sliding down the glass. “It’s like the universe is working against me.”

“Don’t be so negative, Dan.”

Dan lets out a sigh. “Admittedly, the universe did bring you to me with your life-saving umbrella.”

Phil smiles. “There you go.”

Dan takes a careful sip of his hot chocolate and the giant marshmallow bumps into his nose, proving to be an inconvenience just as Phil predicted. He wipes the hot chocolate off his nose before Phil notices it and promptly asks, “Do you believe in fate?”

“What was that?”

“I don’t know.” Phil gives Dan a confused glance from across the table, silently urging him to explain. Phil has really nice eyes that are the color of the ocean but Dan forces himself not to stare. “Just. Earlier you said that thing about, like, soulmates or whatever. And so I, uh, Googled the population of London while I was getting dressed, and it turned out to be 8.3 million, which is pretty… huge.” Dan clears his throat. “Are you _sure_ you don’t stalk me?”

Phil rolls his eyes. “I don’t even know your surname.”

“Howell,” Dan replies smoothly. He then hits himself on the forehead. “That’s beside the point. You asked me if I think we’re soulmates. That’s the point.”

“I never got a proper answer, either.”

The silence that stretches over them is almost palpable. What is Dan supposed to say to that? He doesn’t know enough about Phil – hell, he’s only known of Phil for a week. Surely all the times they’ve bumped into each other have just been coincidences. Do soulmates even exist?

To have an excuse for not answering, Dan lifts his mug to his lips and concentrates on finishing his hot chocolate. The giant marshmallow hits him in the face again. He tries to be discrete about wiping the hot chocolate off his nose but Phil’s looking directly at him this time. He lets out a laugh.

“It’s the bloody marshmallow,” Dan insists, trying to fight the blush on his cheeks.

Phil simply nods and sits back in his chair, sipping on his hot chocolate while watching Dan struggle to find something to say.

“I think I would… like to be friends with you,” Dan mumbles. Which is weird for him, okay, because Dan never mumbles – he enunciates. He’s usually fairly confident about what he says.

“Okay,” Phil replies flatly. There’s another gaping silence, this one at least twelve times more painful than the last.

Clearing his throat, Dan points to Phil’s mug and asks, “Are you done with that?”

Phil peers down into his cup and then shows the mostly empty mug to Dan. “All that’s left is the marshmallow and I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to do with it.”

“Note taken: regular-sized marshmallows are not ideal for hot chocolate,” Dan announces as he takes the mug from him. “Phil?” Dan squints at a tiny chip in the rim of the mug that Phil just handed him. “Was that you?” he asks, pointing at the dent.

Leaning down to evaluate the missing chunk that Dan’s pointing at, Phil says: “I don’t know, Dan, maybe you have tiny rats living in your cupboard.”

Short pause. “What would rats have to do with anything?”

“Maybe they’re nibbling on your mugs while you’re asleep,” Phil explains with mock-sincerity. Dan furrows his brow but doesn’t say anything. “Or maybe I dropped it on the floor. Sorry.”

“Wow, Phil,” Dan chastises, pretending to sound annoyed but unable to wipe the dumb smile off his face. “Blame it on the rats. I see.” Grabbing the two mugs, Dan gets out of his seat to go place them in the kitchen sink and ignores Phil’s highly unreasonable theories about rats eating mugs.

When he return to the table, Phil’s already out of his seat and putting his arms through the sleeves of his red jacket. “Thanks for the hot chocolate,” he says, and Dan knows that this is a definite implication that he’s about to leave.

“To be fair, you actually made the hot chocolate,” Dan responds nimbly, walking over to the door with Phil. “And you were the one with the umbrella. I should be thanking you.” Dan freezes. “And, again, sorry for trying to steal your cereal. Come to think of it, I’m a lot more annoying than I thought. Sorry for all the annoyance I’ve brought into your life; I’m sure there’s quite a bit of it,” he finishes with one of his signature Awkward Laughs.

But Phil seems entirely unaffected, judging by the genuine smile on his face. “You’re not annoying,” he promises before putting his shoes on. Unsure of what to do or say, Dan stands with his hands firmly in his pockets and watches him. Phil picks up his umbrella from where it was resting against the wall and says, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Dan leans forward and kisses Phil, completely unsure of what encourages him to do so. It’s a hasty kiss but it’s enough to make Dan blush when he pulls back. Phil appears to be some combination of amazed and astonished.

“I’m just as surprised as you are,” Dan says quickly, as if that’s a good enough explanation.

“Is that… your way of saying thanks?” Phil guesses. There’s a slight blush tainting his cheeks.

Dan nods. “Precisely.”

Phil laughs. “Okay, Dan.” Dan feels hyper and jittery, like he’s going to jump out of his skin. He uses his shaky hands to open the door for Phil. They say one last goodbye before Phil is out the door and Dan shuts it behind him.

Dan’s mind feels like jelly. What a ridiculous way to say goodbye to someone you barely know. He can still feel his heart racing in his chest and he decides that to spare himself from heart problems in the future he’ll never take risks like that ever again.

He thinks perhaps the most ridiculous part is that he has no way of contacting Phil. At most, Phil deserves more apologies. Some sort of reward for putting up with Dan’s bullshit.

\---

Dan finds the note on the kitchen counter twenty minutes later when he goes to wash the mugs. It’s a sloppily-written phone number on the back of a receipt. Phil’s name is at the bottom with a smiley face.  

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! feel free to talk to me on tumblr [here](http://jpglashton.tumblr.com)


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